A Fifth Season is a place of pause to grieve the death of my first and only child. A season characterized by reflection on the big stuff and the little stuff that this mom encounters as I parent the memory of my child, and my child, in loving return, parents my heart.

What is "A Fifth Season"?

Saturday, February 27, 2010

I sat in an orange chair in our sitting room when the full moon caught my spirit and compelled me to looked up at her through the skylight. She was breathtaking, bright, a reflection of the sunshine --- like my daughter as she lives within me now. Her life now reflected in my own. I call for her dad to come and see. We shut the lights out so that the only light that comes through is what shines from the moon. We squeeze into that orange chair together and watch her in silence. Dark clouds cover her and we see, not hear, the tumultuous wind fight to keep her covered. But she remains and when a break in the clouds appear, the light is bright and piecing and beautiful. We exhale together. "Miss you."

Thursday, February 11, 2010

An update on my new music learning endeavors. The cello rocks! I play three scales and a rendition of "Rueben, Rueben," that would make one weep. Ha! I wanted to share how energizing it is for my mind. The synapses must be firing in ways I can't imagine; after practicing for an hour, I went back to WORK---writing an article. That's right instead of being too tired, I was energized. Making music (not just listening)---that's the key. [Pun intended!]

Here's something else lovely, when I look down at my bow hand I see a blue and yellow "buddy walk" bracelet with Caitlin's name on it and it makes me smile inside. I wish she could hear me play the cello.

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Live the Questions Now

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now....—Rainer Maria Rilke

Pure Silence (Rumi)

I have come this timeto burn my thorns,to purify my life,to take up service againin the garden

I come weeping to these watersto rise free of passion and belief

Look at my face. These tearsare traces of you.

From "Thoughts Matter"

When tears come, I breathe deeply and rest.I know I am in a hallowed stream,where many have gone before.I am not alone, crazy or having a nervous breakdown.My heart is at work.My soul is awake.

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Words of Comfort & Hope

"See I am sending an angel ahead of you to guard you along the way and to bring you to the place I have prepared." (Exodus 23:20)

~Marcel Proust

There is no more ridiculous custom than the one that makes you express sympathy once and for all on a given day to a person whose sorrow will endure as long as his life. Such grief, felt in such a way is always present; it is never too late to talk about it, never repetitious to mention it again.